Black Gold
by Marty1
Summary: 'We're in Hell,' was all Aya could say. On a mission that takes them far from home can our boys survive the locals and the weather? Part 5 up!! Rejoice!! (Part of the 'Saga Begins'/'Baby Talk' Universe)
1. We're in Hell...

Disclaimer: I have taken them without permission, but I will return them when I'm done. Promise.  
  
Comments: Look, Marty has begun another story! Not just a bunch of weird little bits, but an actual story. She's not sure if she likes it or how often she'll update it, but she has at least started it. Anyway, this takes place sometime after 'The Saga Begins' so yes, it is in the same universe and Ken and Aya are snogging on a regular basis. Unfortunately for those of you who were perhaps hoping for a continuation of 'The Saga' (meaning Ken and Aya's relationship) this isn't the place to find it. It's mentioned and exists, but that's really not what the story is about. It isn't RanKen-centric if you catch my drift. (I do intend to continue with that whole drawn out soap opera, but… not yet.) Enjoy this for what it's worth. Fist chapter is Ken's POV. R&R or you will taste my wrath!  
  
  
  
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I stare resolutely out the window of the motel room I am sharing with my three teammates. Dust swirls down the street in tiny tornado whorls and through the cracked parking lot. A beat-up station wagon, complete with long horns on the hood, rolls past the window and jerks to a stop outside the motel office. I sniff once and blink my eyes.  
  
I sense more than see Aya come to stand beside me. He gazes deadpan out into the dusty, dry, sweltering morning. "We're in hell," he grates under his breath.  
  
I look over at him and run the back of my hand across my forehead. Even with the air-conditioning on it's practically unbearable in here. I hate hot weather. Nodding I turn to look back out into the dismal landscape. I've never seen anything like it. I hate it. Nothing but dust and sand and ugly little plants for miles and miles. Tumbleweed, you think it's a myth, just something they put in stupid American movies, but it's not. It's real. I've seen it. Another bush goes rolling by down the street. I close my eyes.  
  
"Hell," Aya repeats turning away. I let my head whack against the windowpane. We've only been here for twenty-eight hours, but I already know I hate Texas.  
  
Youji comes bursting out of the bathroom and gives an ear splitting whoop. "Hot damn! I can't believe this, this is going to be so awesome. Finally Kritiker sends us somewhere interesting. It's like a vacation and charity work all rolled together."  
  
He practically dances to the bed he is sharing with Omi and grabs the hat he bought at the airport in Austin, placing it carefully on his head, making sure his hair sits just right beneath is. He straightens the brim and grins wickedly. I can't believe he's actually enjoying this. And what the hell is he wearing? I thought bolos were an urban legend. Are those cowboy boots?  
  
I glare at him and then turn back to the window. "I hate this place," I mutter.  
  
Youji puts his hands on his hips and rolls his eyes. "Jesus, traveling with you two is like having a downer fed intravenously into my arm. Perk up! We're out of the Koneko, we're out of Japan, we're getting paid for it, and there are several very nice looking young ladies staying just a few doors down. What can you possibly be complaining about?"  
  
Aya doesn't say anything. He just grimaces and throws himself onto the bed, burying his face in a pillow.  
  
"Let's see, Youji," I begin, "first of all there's the heat, then there's the dust, then there's this… motel, if you can call it that, there's the fact that we are in Texas, the most bigoted land on earth, then there's the fact that we're going to have to speak English the whole time we're here, and finally as if all of those things aren't enough there's my personal contempt for this ugly, backwards little town that seems content to hold fast to the cultural skews of fifty years ago. Do you have any idea how many times we've been referred to as 'Japs' since we got here?! I lost count!"  
  
"Oh, c'mon Ken, and how many times have you used the term gaijin? It's all the same. But just because we're outsiders doesn't mean we have to act like it. We've got to dive right in, show them no fear!" Youji exclaims. "That's why we are going dancing with those lovely ladies down the way tonight."  
  
I glance at him nervously. "We are? When did that happen?"  
  
He bites his lip, thinking. "Oh about eight o'clock this morning at the ice machine. So put on your 'honkey-tonk' shoes, cause we're going line dancing!"  
  
Aya groans loudly from the bed. "Hell! Hell I tell you, we're all in hell!"  
  
Youji gives him a scathing look. "Would you pull yourself together, man? A little social interaction isn't going to kill you. Now get off that bed and get ready. We have some snooping to do today."  
  
I look back out the window. A fat man in nothing but faded, greasy overalls walks through the parking lot and disappears around the corner of the gas station. What is wrong with these people?  
  
I realize something's missing. "Where's Omi?" I ask absently.  
  
Aya looks up from the bed and twists his head around to look at me. "He went out to find some breakfast."  
  
"When?"  
  
"Forty-five minutes ago."  
  
"What? What if he's been kidnapped or molested by some redneck cow- fucker!" I cry.  
  
Aya raises one of his thin, arched eyebrows. "Hey, if you wanna go look for him out there, then go for it."  
  
Aya's right. The last thing I want to do is leave this motel room. I'll put that off as long as possible. Still, forty-five minutes is a long time for Omi to be wandering around out there all by his little old lonesome. I sigh and go back to staring at the bleak Texas landscape. Another tumbleweed drifts by. I see him. Omi, that is. He's walking up the road, trying to beat back the dust devils. What's he got? A box of… something. Well at least he wasn't kidnapped by a cow-fucker.  
  
I watch lethargically as he walks up the road, into the parking lot, across the cracked pavement, and to our door. He fumbles with his key. Youji saves him, opening the door with gusto.  
  
"Welcome home, pilgrim," Youji drawls.  
  
I snort under my breath. "Youji, could you try for once in your life not to be a total dork."  
  
"Hey," he snaps, "I'm just trying to blend in and have a good time. At least I'm not moaning and crying and rolling around on the bed feeling sorry for myself like –some- people I could mention." He makes a point of indicating Aya who rolls over and groans again.  
  
"So nice to be welcomed back," Omi says under his breath, pushing Youji out of the way.  
  
I look over at him slowly. "Whad'ya bring us?"  
  
He glares at me for a moment and then marches to the obligatory motel room table, setting down a large box and cup holder with four cups in it. "Wouldn't you like to know? You know, you guys, for all the trouble I go through I'm feeling a severe lack of appreciation here…."  
  
"Oh shut-up, Omi-kun, and just tell us what you got and what took you fourty-five minutes to get it!" I snap.  
  
"Fine, fine. Hawduyuhawses*, Ken," he says in rather mangled sounding English.  
  
"Nani? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"  
  
"I means, 'be patient,' I think. That's what the girl at the counter kept saying to me while I was trying to get her to take down my order correctly. I swear, I thought that English was hard in class, but I can't understand –anything- these Texan people say. They have some sort of … weird accent or something. It's like a sub dialect. I can't make it out. But it really is rather fascinating. I finally figured out what that word the flight attendants kept saying was. The one that sounded like 'yul.' It's actually a slang term for 'all of you.' 'Y'all,'" he parrots happily. "Isn't that cool?!"  
  
I roll my eyes. I haven't practiced my English since I got out of high school. Not many gaijin hanging around the Koneko. Youji is proficient. It was a prerequisite to be on the force I guess; he had a lot of foreign contacts. As for Aya's English skills, well… not like he talks a lot anyway, but he seems to understand most of what is said to him. Omi doesn't really speak so badly, but he treats the whole language barrier thing like some giant sociology experiment. He finds almost everything about the English language, and especially English idioms, to be 'fascinating.'  
  
"Omi, just tell us what's in the box," I grumble.  
  
"Oh, yeah I almost forgot. I found a donut shop down the road a ways. Kurispee Kureemu,*" he reports happily. I have no idea what that's supposed to mean. Sounds rather disgusting if you ask me. "Anyway, after a rather long and drawn out battle with the counter girl, I managed to buy a box of donuts and four cups of coffee."  
  
"It's hell!" Aya moans from the bed once more.  
  
Omi trains his large, startled eyes on our so called 'leader.' "Are you feeling ok, Aya-kun? I got you some coffee, maybe you'll feel better…."  
  
Aya sits up abruptly and glares at Omi, hard. "I don't want your goddamned coffee, Omi. I want to get the hell out of here."  
  
"Why? Texas is absolutely fascinating. I've never been to the United States before, so why don't you come and have some coffee and a donut?" Omi asks innocently.  
  
"I've never been to the U.S. either, and now I know why. This place reeks of depravity. We have landed in a cesspool of the lowest breeding stock the human race has to offer!" Aya growls and then falls back into the pillows.  
  
Omi looks rather frightened and turns away, flipping open the box of donuts.  
  
Youji stares at Aya, "That was harsh."  
  
I sigh. I shake my head. I suppose it's my job to make him act civil. I grab a cup of coffee and a chocolate glazed donut and walk over to the bed, sitting down beside him. I take a sip of the coffee and Aya glares up at me. I take a big bite of the donut and chew it contently. "Mmm, donut," I mumble. I glance over at him to see if it's working. He glares back at me, but I can see that he's interested.  
  
I swing my legs up onto the bed and lean against the rickety head board. "Want some?" I ask sweetly.  
  
He blinks at me, and then reaches up, snatching the rest of my uneaten donut from my hand.  
  
"Hey!" I cry.  
  
He stuffs it completely into his mouth and chews, little spooges of chocolate mussing his lips. That's gross… that's something I would do. "Aya, that was my donut," I grumble. He shrugs and starts to lick the brown glazing off of his lips. I berate myself silently for having the nerve to be turned on by it. I take another sip of my coffee and cross my feet at the ankles. "If you sit up and act civil, I'll share my coffee," I say.  
  
He wipes the last of the chocolate away with the back of his hand and looks up at me. I am determined not to look back, so I sip my coffee contentedly. Eventually he sits halfway up and pushes his way under my arm, resting his head on my chest. Great… it's too hot in here for this…. Why am I drinking coffee if it's too hot?!  
  
I realize that I detest the taste of coffee. "Bleh." I hand the cup to Aya who takes it gracefully and sips at it, wrapping his free arm behind my back. It's still too hot for this….  
  
Omi trots over with the box of donuts in tow. He sits happily on the floor and rests his back against the side of the bed he's sharing with Youji. Youji grabs his coffee and comes to sit on the bed across from us. Omi holds up the box. "Seconds?"  
  
Youji immediately grabs another one and as I reach for one myself, Aya pokes my rips. "Get me that cinnamon twisty thing."  
  
"Fine," I snap, grabbing it and handing to my temperamental koibito. I snag the last crème filled jelly roll. I feel Aya chewing against my ribs and looks down. "Ugh, koi! C'mon sit up, you're getting cinnamon crap all over me, and besides that it's sweltering in here!" I give him a nudge with my elbow and he growls, sitting up reluctantly. I feel bad for the poor guy, he has to be in a really bad mood to cuddle with me. I mean… I cuddle with –him- all the time, but when it goes the other way around, I know he's not a happy camper.  
  
"So," Youji says at length, after devouring his maple bar, "let's go over things one more time, just to get all this straight. And then I suggest we come up with a plan of action."  
  
We all nod in agreement, it's business now. Omi gets crackin'.  
  
"Ok, so according to Manx we are here to locate and destroy all facilities that are linked with the Global Oil Corporation. Apparently Global Oil has been found to use child slave labor imported from Asian countries and is involved in facilitating several different drug-running operations. Global Oil has also been reported to be involved in experimental, and environmentally unsound means of oil extraction. Biohazardous and radioactive materials are leaking from their processing facilities with little or no attention to clean up or the effect on the animals and/or people living in the areas directly affected by the contamination. I think we all saw the pictures…."  
  
We nod silently. The pictures were truly disturbing. Entire towns were infected, contaminated with chemicals. The people living there suffered growths, internal bleeding, physical deformations, hemorrhaging, loss of hair and skin, and any number of other horrific symptoms, all of which eventually led to death. Global Oil refused to take the wrap, and it's heads just kept the plants and refineries running at top speed.  
  
"The man that is our ultimate target, when we locate him, is Shiro Ano, the President of Global Oil. Although the corporation he began was Japanese in it's origins, it became a part of a larger oil conglomerate, merging with several other small time oil companies to become the Global Oil of today. We have also been instructed to kill the other heads of the Corporation, included Abdul Al Sidiki and Jerome Sanchez. Unfortunately we are going to have to locate each of these men on our own. Their whereabouts are currently unknown to Kritiker, although Manx did assure us that they would keep looking. Until we know where to find them, we are to destroy all their facilities in the Texas oil belt and wait for further instructions." Omi looks around at everyone and then nods definitively.  
  
"Sounds like a lot of crap," Aya says harshly. "Why should we have to take care of this? What does any of this have to do with Persia or Japan?"  
  
"Well, much of the child labor being supplied to the Global Oil plants is composed of children taken from Japan and other east Asian countries. And… I think Persia has some sort of favor he owes to someone who wants this guy dead, so…."  
  
"So we get to do his dirty work on a long, half-assed mission like this," I finish.  
  
Omi sighs and hangs his head, "Pretty much."  
  
Youji looks up and smiles at all of us. "I don't know why you guys are so down about this? The mission, once we get the logistics figured out is going to be simple. We find these plants, and it can't be that hard, there's nothing around here for miles, we blow then up, and we're out of here. In the mean time we get a little line dancing, a little tex-mex, a little tequila, and a few fine South Western women to boot thrown in."  
  
"You forget, Youji," Omi breaks in, "that our mission isn't to just destroy these plants. We have to locate the three head honchos for Global Oil, and kill them. They could be anywhere in the world, at any of their main bases of operations including Saudi Arabia, Kuwait, Austin, Tokyo, or the North Slope in Alaska! One way or the other we are either going to be burning or freezing for a very long time."  
  
Youji rolls his eyes. "Ok, ok. Spoil my fun before it even begins. But we –are- going dancing tonight. No arguments."  
  
I look over at Aya who doesn't look pleased. We all know that there is no use in arguing with Youji, if he wants us to go dancing, we'll end up at the dance place if he has to knock us out and drag us there himself. It might not be so bad. At least I'll have Aya… and at least he'll have me. Aya mumbles something under his breath, and then swings his legs over the edge of the bed.  
  
"Well, what are we sitting here for? We have a lot of work to do. We've got to start locating these oil plants. Omi get on the computer. Youji and I will snoop around town and see if anyone can or will tell us anything. Ken… go grocery shopping."  
  
Great I get to be food bitch again. I'm –always- the food bitch! 


	2. The Food Bitch and the Ho

Disclaimer: I abducted them and you can't have them back until I've had my way with them.  
  
Comments: Part two of the ever weirder 'Black Gold' conglomerate. In which Ken takes advantage of being the food bitch and Youji explains why he is the ho. It should be all good fun. Not a whole lot of progress in the actual story line is made here, but it's pretty amusing. (And the return of Ken's inner monologue!) Please enjoy. This is the only credible thing I've written since I left for my vacation. Please don't kill me if updates are –really slow- in the weeks/months to come… my laptop broke! It was very sad and now I'm never going to get to watch 'GTO.' *big sigh* Oh well. Life will go on. Just means that I have to now schedule my writing now only around my whims but the computer usage of the other –nine- people currently living in the house I am staying in. It's only for a few more weeks though, so bear with me. (Not like I was ever punctual with my updates anyway… muwahahaha!) R&R!! GRRRR, don't make me tell you twice!  
  
  
  
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I am awestruck the moment the automatic 'In Only' doors swing open with a soft hiss, and bright un aesthetic light pours into my eyes. This grocery store is huge… and I do mean huge. I don't understand. I can't wrap my mind around it. What is a huge, fluorescent lighted, magnetic anti theft device, salad bar, full deli, Pizza Hut complete grocery store doing in this tiny, backwards, disgusting little town? An arctic breeze seems to flow past my sweating skin.  
  
Sweet Jesus, relief at last; air-conditioning at its best. Guess being the food bitch has its advantages. I snicker as I imagine Omi still locked in that sweltering little hotel room of ours and Aya and Youji dragging themselves through the town on foot. I sigh as I enter the store, my body temperature dropping almost immediately. I swear I can hear the sound of angels singing. *Aaaahhhh!* I am bathed in heavenly light. Make that headache inducing ultra fluorescent light… but I'll take what I can get.  
  
I reach into my pocket as I duck out of the way of an oncoming shopping cart. Everybody is in such a rush. Rummaging around through the lint and stray pieces of paper in my pocket I finally come up with the list that was handed me by Aya on my way out the door.  
  
"This is on the store account. Don't buy anything extra," he'd said. Phsh! Yeah right. I have just entered the Mecca of Western snack foods; how can I possible pass this up? Fruit snacks… here I come.  
  
After a rather long and drawn out battle with a row of carts I manage to procure a shopping receptacle on wheels. I glance down at the list, almost running over a little boy who seems to have become severed from his parents. He scowls at me, says something that is most likely rude and then runs off, raspberrying me over his shoulder. What is wrong with children in this country?! I am sorely tempted to scream something like, "Kuso gaki*!" but restrain myself. That would be childish and… he wouldn't understand me anyway.  
  
Back to the list. Hmmm, let's see: instant Cup of Noodles (as many as I can carry), juice (oh that's specific), tea (also nice and specific), cereal (mmm… cereal… Honey Bunches of Oats…), milk (do we drink milk… oh for the cereal, duh), paper bowls, paper plates, plastic silver wear (cause it's hard to eat cereal with chopsticks), bread (uh…), jelly (..ok…), peanut butter (oh, I get it), and last but not least beer (scrawled of course in Youji's handwriting, crossed out once by two strait, thin Aya- esque lines, and re-written and circled twice). I have to giggle. What a crappy list. I start to make some brainstorms of my own. This is going to be fun. Sure Aya told me not to buy anything extra but… easier to ask forgiveness than permission. Right? Right.  
  
I head off down the far isle. I might as well just comb the whole store. Rows and rows and rows of stuff. All written in English… this is giving me a headache. The lights aren't helping. What the hell kind of jelly is this anyway? Is that supposed to be a grape or a plum? I think that says grape… uh… but then again I KNOW this one says strawberry… I don't like seeds. Hey look! Tortilla chips… shit I didn't know that these things came is flavors. Is that… chili flavored chips?! Ew! Gross. Hmmm these –look- plain. Yeah, they're plain… I hope. Ah yes, cookies in bags. Awesome. Fudge filled. It's going in the cart. What kind of milk do we drink… 1%? 2%? Whole… why is this milk slightly blue? Ewww… Skim milk… barf. Homogin… homoginizied… no… homogenized… what does that mean? Oh well, it's going in the cart. Ohhh, cottage cheese.  
  
I find myself caught up in a shopping frenzy of uncontrollable proportions. I start getting funny looks form people and I wonder why until I realize that I am muttering to myself in Niheigo/Japanglish. My eyes light up as a heavenly beam of light illuminates the sports drink case and slowly draws me in. That's a lot of Gatorade… sugoi!  
  
Now, for the beer. Beer… beer… beer. Whoa… that's a lot of beer. Waaay more beer than Gatorade. I am not qualified to make this decision! How much beer can we consume… rather how much beer can Youji consume? And what kind of beer? I could just buy basic, generic beer… but why when I have all these options? But then again I don't really like beer. Drinking makes me really stupid. Really stupid. Ahhh… the decisions!! Ok, settle down, Hidaka, you can do this. Just reach out a hand and… there that one. Corona. Yes, corona. It's… expensive…but the bottles looks cool and it –is- on the Koneko dime so… in the cart. Good that's all taken care of.  
  
I stand in line. I brush over the headlines of the magazines at the check stand. What is the American obsession with Princess Diana? I don't get it! The woman has been dead of years and yet she's –still- in their tabloids. But then again… Elvis has been dead since the seventies and according to the Weekly World News he's been spotted cavorting with 'Bat Boy' as recently as two weeks ago. The thing is that after working with Weiss… I'm not so sure how much I –doubt- the existence of Bat Boy….  
  
"ID, please."  
  
I look up. I hadn't even noticed that the checker was ringing up my food. She now stares at me over a pair of most un aesthetic glasses smacking what could only have been bright blue bubble gum, one hand resting on the case of corona.  
  
"Ha? Nani? Er… excuse me?" I say blinking at her innocently.  
  
She rolls her eyes. "Your. ID. Please," she says in a voice that is not only insultingly slow but ear drum splitting loud. And yet, to my chagrin… I'm still not exactly sure what she wants from me.  
  
"So sorry… I don't…," I say, shrugging, smiling sheepishly.  
  
"Identification. I. Need. It. Yours."  
  
Identification… for what? I note the corona, I note her hand on the corona. Oooh, I get it. Duh. I smile and nod, reaching into my pocket, procuring my Pass Port. She takes it from me with a thin little smile and another eye roll. She flips it open and scans if for a moment then looks up at me with dull, un-amused eyes. Now what did I do?  
  
"I cayn't sell you this," she drawls patting the beer.  
  
"Ha?"  
  
"You. Are. Underaged."  
  
I'm still confused and the people in line behind me are getting restless. I hear one mumble. "Damn tourists."  
  
I think she's telling me I can't buy Youji's beer. She holds up a little red sign that has a big '21' printed in the middle of it and some other words that I don't bother to read. I get it already.  
  
"Oh, I see, I see," I say hurriedly. That's right I forgot… American sucks! "It's ok. It's ok. Hai, hai, hai," I nod.  
  
She smiles at me warily and tucks the beer under the counter. "Okay then, your total comes to…."  
  
I nearly inhale my own tongue. Aya is going to have a nervous break down. I better work on my sweet talk on the way home. It is nearly physically painful to hand her the store credit card.  
  
Well… at least we got food. Lots of it.  
  
Standing outside the store I realize that I had not anticipated the problem that would be posed when it came to taking my groceries back to the hotel. It wasn't really all that far away, but then again it wasn't all that close either. I look at the shopping cart…. All the bags fit so nicely inside. I chew on my lip and try to come to the right decision. It would be way easier to just take it, but then people are going to stare at me and then it'll be nothing but, "Damn Japs, always stealing grocery carts!"  
  
Fuck 'em all!! I'm taking this cart and the Texan bastards can go to hell.  
  
Away from the paradise like world of the super market shopping center I am pulled back into the sweltering heat and depravity of the town we are calling our temporary home. I struggle down the two lane highway, trying to keep the cart on the pavement as much as possible as beat-up, rusted out vehicles do their best to make me shit my pants. The huge gaping cracks in the pavement and the swirling dust devils prove to be formidable opponents, but I am not a professional assassin for nothing! I can deal with this. I am stronger than this hell hole! I won't let it beat me!  
  
By the time I get back to the motel room I am swearing constantly under my breath, I have one mashed finger, and I think I may have sprained my ankle due to having the cart tip over on me as I attempted to jump out of the way of an oncoming Sedan. What's wrong with these people?!  
  
The cart trundles up to the door and I bang furiously on it with one hand. We were only given two keys. Aya and Youji have them both. So if Omi and I even wanted to leave at the same time… we couldn't. Leaders are so sneaky like that.  
  
"Omittchi?! Open up, it's me!" There is no answer. I pound again with the flat of my hand. "I'm not in the mood, bishounen! Open the door. For the love of God!"  
  
There is not sound from within. If Omi even went out and locked us both out of the room I'm gonna…. Just the thought makes me want to curl up in a ball and weep.  
  
I'm just about ready to slump down next to the door when I hear the latch slide open. Omi opens the door and stands there looking at me blearily. His hair is askew and his clothes are rumpled. He rubs one eye with the back of his hand. "Ken-kun? Back already?"  
  
"Already?" I growl. "I've been gone for nearly three hours!"  
  
"Oh, really? I didn't notice. I kinda… took a nap. Wow are all those groceries ours?"  
  
"Yeah. I kinda… got a little out of control," I admit.  
  
He stares past my shoulder. "Ken… tell me you did not steal that shopping cart from the grocery store."  
  
"Uhhh, I would, but I'd be lying. Now just help me get this crap inside and then dispose of the evidence," I grumble, handing him a bag.  
  
He looks down into it. "Hm, fruit roll-ups, were those one the list?"  
  
"I don't know, Omittchi, what do you thing?"  
  
He sighs and reaches for another bag. "Aya isn't going to be happy."  
  
I grin. "Don't worry. I know how to deal with Aya."  
  
"I bet you do," he says under his breath. I poke him between the shoulder blades to let him know I heard.  
  
When all the grocery bags are unloaded and piled on Youji's side of the bed I push the cart out across the road, past a stray tumbleweed, and down into a ditch. Omi watches disapprovingly from the doorway.  
  
Now to sleep. I throw myself down onto the bed I share with Aya and pull his pillow up over my head. Mm, smells like my koibito. I feel the bed sag unexpectedly as Omi plops down beside me and starts ripping open a bag of potato chips.  
  
"Check it out, they're covered in green things. Smells good too…," he murmurs, sticking his nose into the bag. He holds them out to me, and I am overcome by onion and potato fumes. The smell of Aya is lost.  
  
I glare up at Omi and push the chips away. "Aren't you supposed to be researching or something?"  
  
He shrugs. "I already did a search yesterday. There's no rush. It will be easier to just wait till Aya and Youji come back with some real info before I go trying to make plans and start looking up personnel and all that. I sent and e-mail to Persia, but other than that there really isn't much I can do right now."  
  
I grumble and roll over. "Well get those things out of my face. I'm not hungry."  
  
He rolls up the chips and drops them onto the floor. "Yeah, me neither. I'm kinda tired though. I think I'll go back to napping." He curls up in ball next to me. "Can I have the pillow?"  
  
I don't want to give him Aya's pillow. I hug it tightly. "Can't you sleep on your own bed?" I snap.  
  
"My bed is covered with groceries," he says, "and you know how I toss around when I sleep. I'll knock them off. Just give me the pillow. You don't mind if I sleep by you, right? We used to share the bed all the time when we had away missions."  
  
He's right. Before Aya and I 'hooked up' it was always Omi and I who shared a bed and Aya would usually sleep on the floor. Youji didn't seem to mind. Of course he really didn't seem to mind now either. He's pretty laid back. "No… I don't mind," I grumble, "it's just…."  
  
Omi props himself up and looks over my shoulder. "Oh, sorry didn't know you were having 'private time' with Aya's pillow. I'll leave you two alone," he says disgustedly.  
  
Now my conscience is nagging at me. I always manage to piss Omi off these days. I grumble and roll over the other way, throwing Aya's pillow up into his face. "Fine," I grumble, "sleep on my bed. Whatever you want."  
  
He giggles. "Thanks, Kenken," he singsongs and then flops down, curling into a ball once again. I sigh. I hate the way motel room beds creak….  
  
I must drift off because when I awake it is to the sound of deep voices and the key rattling in the door. Much to my disgruntlement one of Omi's legs has become tangled with mine. The rest of him is spread out across the three fourths of the bed that I do not occupy. I gruffly shove him off and sit up blearily. The door swings open. Aya and Youji come in, talking quietly.  
  
"What did you find out?" I ask, stretching.  
  
Youji shrugs. "Not much. There have been a couple of law suits again Global Oil, some general complaint and grumbling among the natives, but other than that not much to be said by the locals. We did manage to make a map with all the Global Oil processing and drilling facilities on it. Amazing what you can do at your public library these days. And compiled a list of the official site names, so running a check on supervisors through the net shouldn't be a problem and whatthehellisthathugepileofshitonmybed?!" Youji suddenly spews, his words coming out in one huge rush of disbelief.  
  
"Gorceries," I say simply.  
  
"That is not the list," Aya grumbles.  
  
I shrug. "So sue me. We can't possible live off instant noodles, cereal, and PBJ sandwiches. I had to get some snack food. Oh, and Youji… sorry I couldn't buy you beer. I got carded."  
  
"Zakennayo," he hisses. "I really wanted a cold one too."  
  
"Why is Omi sleeping?" Aya asks gruffly.  
  
I shrug. "Jet lag, humidity, I dunno. We've both been napping all morning."  
  
Youji winks at me. "Isn't that cute? You guys are just precious."  
  
Aya grumbles, easily made jealous, and plops down in one of the hard motel room chairs. He buries his head in the crook of one arm and breathes softly. He's so… *sigh* something. Unable to resist I walk to the chair and run one hand lazily over his head, through his cool red hair. Youji makes it a point to attack the pile of snack food heaped on his bed, so I lean down and whisper in Aya's ear. "I'd rather have been napping with you," I say softly and then kiss his temple, "I missed you."  
  
He turns his head and peers up at me with one narrow, indigo eye. He lifts his fingers off his arm and twiddles them at me idly. I know what that means. I reach over and lace my fingers with his. He squeezes, I squeeze back. He looks at me for a moment more and then buries his face again. "I want out of this hell hole," he murmurs.  
  
"Me too, koi, but there isn't much we can do about it," I respond, trailing my free hand through the hair at the nape of his neck. I sigh. "Just think how nice it will be when we get back to our own place with our own stuff and our own food and our own language…."  
  
"And our own bedrooms," he growls playfully, letting his eye peek up at me again. There is a dangerous little twinkle in it now.  
  
I chuckle and squeeze his hand again. Youji makes of show of choking on a potato chip. "One track minds, the both of you."  
  
I turn and scowl at him, "Oh and look who's talking. Casa fucking Nova himself."  
  
"Hey, can I help it? I'm the ho," he drawls, kicking back on his bed.  
  
I glare at him for a moment and then say, "Elaborate, please."  
  
"You know, it's just like in any set of friends… or whatever…. We all have our little roles to play. Brains, jock, beauty, ho. Omi's the brains, you're the jock, Aya's the beauty, and then I'm the ho. That's just how it goes."  
  
I raise an eyebrow. Aya just groans and shakes his head. "Why does Aya get to be the beauty?"  
  
"Cause if you were the beauty, Kenken, then there would be nobody to be the jock, and as far as me being the beauty," he flips his hair expertly at this, "then there would be nobody to be the ho," Youji says matter of factly.  
  
"Well, how come Omi isn't the beauty and Aya the brains then?" I ask just to argue. "Aya –is- our leader after all."  
  
Youji rolls his eyes. "Because, Omi is too sweet to be the beauty, and as clever as Aya might be, Omi is definitely the uber nerd here. I'm sorry, Ken-kun, that's just the way it works out."  
  
"Hey, you guys talking smack about me?" Omi's sleep riddled voice breaks in followed by a huge yawn.  
  
"No, Omi-kun. Go back to sleep," Youji and I say together.  
  
Now he sits up and rubs at his oversized eyes. "You are talking about me. You guys are so mean," he whines.  
  
Aya releases my hand and sits up abruptly. "Enough of this idiocy. We have a mission to plan."  
  
"And a honky-tonk to get ready for," Youji adds. We all swivel around to fix him with glares of death. Aya of course is the most effective at this, but Youji weathers the assault well, smiling cheerily and humming.  
  
"Yeah, so what is the deal with these girls you met, Yotan," I ask, leaning against the obligatory motel room table.  
  
He shakes his head. "I told you. I met them at the ice machine this morning. I asked them if they knew of anything fun to do around here and they invited me and 'my friends' to come with them to this line dancing place tonight. They're coming by the room around seven or so. That should leave us plenty of time to scheme before we have to get ready. Right? Right."  
  
"Exactly how many girls are we talking about?" Omi pipes up a bit nervously. The last time he went to a dance with a girl they both ended up abducted and she ended up ultimately dead. And his sister…. Confusing, but true.  
  
Youji holds up three finger. "Trés muchachas."  
  
Omi sighs in relief. "Oh good, then it won't matter if I come along or not, because I won't have a dancing partner. So you guys go and I'll stay here."  
  
Youji shakes his blonde waves, hair bouncing effortlessly around his face. He puts way to much effort into his hair. "Not gonna cut it, Omittchi. That's the beauty of line dancing. Either nobody's your partner or everybody's your partner." He grins wickedly.  
  
Omi sighs in defeat. "Oh well."  
  
I pat him on the back. "Can't blame you for trying, kiddo. But what's the worst that could happen with all of us there?"  
  
At the time I asked this in all innocence. If I'd only known. If I'd only known….  
  
  
  
After thoughts: It was a bit long winded. But whoever complained about the length of a fic? Not I, said the little red hen. Hope it was enjoyed. Part three will follows soon… hopefully. Let me know if you have any thoughts about the story or what you think –should- happen. I'm always curious about what people imagine. 


	3. Le_ty'_

Disclaimer: Weiss Kruez and all related paraphernalia belong to their rightful owners. I am not one of these owners. I never will be… unless I become really rich and then I will buy Koyasu Takahito's soul. Until then, I borrowed them.  
  
Comments: Bleh. I'm on a roll, people. Hold tight. No actually you don't have to. My rollercoaster of love doesn't move that fast. Anyway, here it is… the ill fated honky-tonk trip. Hope it lives up to those expectations. It probably won't cause it's kinda short in all actuality. But still, it should amuse. Poor Kenken… poor Aya. Oh well. I actually already wrote the next chapter… (before I wrote the second and third… weird) but it needs some adjustments. Shouldn't take me long to get it up. Have a good one. Enjoy. R&R! If you don't I'll send rabid howler monkey to your house. And I will too. I have the Darkside with me!!  
  
  
  
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I stare out the window. Feels like I've been doing a lot of that lately. It's just about dusk, the vile looking street lights are beginning to flicker on. The mood is sour. It's pretty much been confirmed that the only one of us looking forward to this little evening out is Youji. Aya, Omi, and I are quite content to grumble and pout.  
  
"Would you three –try- to stop moping around for five seconds so that the three young ladies who are about to pick us up aren't thrown into a spontaneous depression as soon as they open the door?" he asks peevishly, adjusting his cowboy hat. "And I still think that we should have gone and bought you guys some boots. Aya can pull it off in those little side zip pimp boots he's got, but you tow are going to look like idiots trying to line dance in cross trainers and converse."  
  
"Thanks, Youji, you're making this seem like more and more of a good idea every second," I say under my breath.  
  
Omi fidgets nervously on the bed. "Well, I didn't think we were going to be making this mission a social event. Awwww… do I have to go along?"  
  
I look over at him from the window and narrow my eyes. "If we have to go, Omittchi, we –all- have to go. We're a team after all."  
  
He sticks out his bottom lip and starts to pout. "And these jeans are really tight. Why do I have to wear these again, Yotan?"  
  
"Because I bought them for you, and Wrangler jeans are what everybody in Texas wears. They're supposed to be tight. See, mine are tight," Youji sing songs as he bends over to flash both of us a view of his second skin jeans as they stretch over his ass. He smacks himself. "Like a rock!"  
  
"Ugh," is all I can manage. Repulsed and annoyed I turn back to the window.  
  
"Why didn't you buy the jeans for Ken?" Omi whines.  
  
"Because, Omittchi, attempting to change Ken's… er… unique fashion sense is a loosing battle. For you, my dear bishounen, there is always hope. Besides, Ken already has a bitch, so he doesn't actually –have- to look good tonight."  
  
"And this shirt… I just don't feel right. Why are the lapels so big?" Omi continues.  
  
Youji rolls his eyes and crosses to where Omi is sitting on the bed. He then proceeds to slap Omi's hands away from the collar of his shirt, fold it down correctly, and generally straighten the poor kid brutally. "Just because," he snaps.  
  
"Ah! Yotan!"  
  
I stare resolutely out into the cracked parking lot and let my forehead whack once against the window. I hear the bathroom door creak open and turn my head to watch Aya emerge in a waft of steam. Damn… he looks good. And it smells good in here too. Ah, Aya how do I love thee? Let me jump you right now and show you. But then I'd muss up his designer linen shirt and artfully pressed second skin jeans. Am I the only one –not- wearing second skin pants tonight?  
  
I glance down at myself. Same old pants, same old shoes, same old shirt, but hey… at least it's freshly washed.  
  
Youji and Omi are too busy trying to make Omi look correct to notice that Aya has emerged from his cocoon, so I wander over to him smiling lazily. I put my hands on his hips, looping my fingers through the belt loops. I tug once. "You look nice," I murmur.  
  
He looks down at me, "I know. One of us had to," he smirks.  
  
I give him the I'm-so-disgusted look and roll my eyes. "What exactly are you saying, koi?"  
  
"Nothing," he says, covering my curled lip with his own. I tug his hips up against mine and purr softly. "I like you to dress the way you do. It means the only one looking will be me."  
  
I giggle and push his hips away, turning to go back to the window. "Oh please. Can we go over the mission plan once more as long as we're waiting?"  
  
"The plan," Aya begins, "is this: tomorrow we are taking a car and visiting as many Global Oil sites as we can. Youji, seeing as he has the best English skills, will speak with the management under the pretense that he is looking for a job using papers that will be supplied by Omi. Youji's job is to find out anything and everything he can from the various site managers about the targets' whereabouts and any other useful information. Meanwhile Ken and I will scout out the buildings themselves, setting charge flags at key locations. This way when we come back to actually set the charges we will be able to locate them in the dark using handheld tracking devices. Repeat as necessary until all facilities are tagged with charges. In the mean time Omi will be here at the computer working to link all the charge sites together so that when they go… they all go at once. Then we can skip town before the authorities even know to get nosey."  
  
I sigh. "Sounds great. I love well planned missions."  
  
"Don't we all?" Aya grumbles.  
  
Omi gets up off the bed, shoving Youji out of his personal space. "Aya- kun? Do I look alright? I don't trust Yotan anymore."  
  
Aya looks over at him and his eyebrow twitches once. "Hn."  
  
"That is so not helping, Aya," Omi snaps. "Can't I please just stay here?"  
  
"No!" we all cry. Just then there is a knock at the door.  
  
Without a word Youji prances across the room and opens the motel room door with a flourish. "Buenos noches, bonitas!" he drawls.  
  
There is a mini fit of giggles. Great looks like girls in Texas are just as annoying as girls in the Koneko. Some things never change. I look over at the door as Youji ushers the young ladies into the room.  
  
"Girls I would like you to meet my traveling companions. This is Omi, I know he looks young, but I swear he's perfectly legal, Aya, it would be folly to actually try to talk to him, and Ken, sweet and unassuming but be wary Aya is rather protective of that one." Of course all of this is rattled off rather rapidly in English, so I don't actually catch most of it. I wonder vaguely why the girls are giving each other rather strange looks.  
  
"And guys," he says, reverting to Japanese, "this is Blaire, Brandy, and Charlotte. Perfectly obnoxious names, I know, but what are you going to do this is Texas."  
  
We all kinda wave at each other half heartedly. I don't think I'm going to like these girls. Number one the first two are way too tall. I'm five foot nine which is doing well in my country, and they are as tall as I am if not a bit taller. Good thing the Brandy girl is only about five foot four or else Omi might start having inferiority issues. Second of all they are dressed, all three of them, as the female equivalents of Youji. Cowboy boots all around, tight jeans, one is wearing some kind of blue grass swing skirt, and one even sports a bolo. This is going to be a long night.  
  
Youji looks around at us expectantly. "Ok, then. Let's go."  
  
And go we do. The girls have a truck and we have our rented station wagon thing. POS car, if you know what I mean. It's definitely on it's last legs. "We'll follow you," Youji calls to the girls who giggle and nod.  
  
Ten minutes later we're clambering out of the rusted out car and into the parking lot of what appears to be some sort of … night club? No that's not right. It's just a big, ugly, square building with a slat shingle roof and a huge neon sign of a dancing cowboy that reads 'Le_ty'_'. Of course it's suppose to read 'Lefty's' but all the f and s manage to do are stutter and spark weakly. The cowboy's highest kick doesn't illuminate either. Oh great, this looks sooo promising. Great idea, Youji.  
  
We go inside, we order drinks (mine smuggled to me by Youji), we sit, we chat, we order food, and listen to what is passing itself off as a band. I figure my disdain for the music must be a personal problem since everyone around us seems to be having a good time in spite of it… even because of it.  
  
Early in the evening I am glomped onto by the one called Charlotte. She cozies up, right into my personal space. I watch, helpless, as Aya's eye twitches. He does nothing else to relieve me.  
  
"So, what is it that y'all do, ezactly?" she asks batting her big blue, green eye-shadowed eyes at me. I smile weakly.  
  
"Um… we are… florists," I say slowly, nodding when I figure I've got the right word.  
  
She pauses. "Oh, really? That's an interesting profession for four young guys like yourselves to have…."  
  
"We have… shop," I explain, "in Kyoto."  
  
"Oh, so y'all are private business owners. I get it. Well that's cool. You know you have the prettiest eyes," she drawls, coming dangerously close to touching my face.  
  
I translate what she just said twice just to make sure I got it right. I blink. Hawduyuhawses! I have the prettiest eyes? I just met this chick. I look over at Aya a bit frantically. He rubs his temples and takes a sip of his beer.  
  
I smile strangely. "Er… thank you." I think.  
  
For the next few minutes I am assaulted non stop by the feminine hormonal system thrown into overdrive. There's a lot of giggling, touching, knee grabbing, and 'Oh, Ken'ing going on. It disturbs me greatly, and I think my awkwardness is only egging her on. I'm pretty sure that despite my efforts to the contrary I am blushing rather badly.  
  
Suddenly the music stops and over the loudspeaker comes a fuzzy, loud, crackling voice. I have no idea what it says. The accent is too thick and the static is too disturbing. Lucky for me we have Blaise, Brandy, and Charlotte with us.  
  
Charlotte grabs my hand and yanks me up out of the seat. "They're gonna start a new line! Let's go y'all."  
  
Youji and Omi meet the same fate and are dragged towards what appears to be a large wooden dance floor covered in wood chips. I suppress a squeal of terror and manage to yank Charlotte back just enough to latch onto Aya's arm. "If I'm falling your going down with me," I growl. "Help me, koi!"  
  
I pull him after us towards the dance floor. The girls arrange us in the middle of the line and then take their places in front of us.  
  
"Just watch us, and do what we do, 'k?" Blaise chirps. I can just see the little ♥ at the end of her sentence.  
  
I have to admit that all in all it was a lot of fun, especially since Omi and I had absolutely no idea what we were doing and ended up bumping into each other as much as actually getting the steps correct. But once we got it down, we got it down. Youji and Aya were really starting to cook. A rendition of 'Cotton Eyed Joe' comes on and the place goes wild. I can't help but whoop along with the rest of the crazies and I kick up wood chips. I manage to punch some guy in the face mid chorus… it isn't pretty. I want to stop and apologize profusely, but there something about the music that won't let me. I know that if I get out of step now… I'll never get back in. So I just scream "So sorry!" at the top of my lungs as I go into another do-se-do.  
  
We must have been out there for at least four songs before the girls dragged us back to our seats so that we could eat our food which was rapidly getting cold.  
  
The dancing rather lightened the mood. There's a lot of nonsensical laughter going on at the table now, and Youji just keeps ordering more drinks, which he casually scoots to me across the table. Aya eyes me warily. He remembers what happened the last time I got really drunk…. Yeah, let's not talk about that. Of course there is still the Charlotte problem to contend with. She won't stop talking to me and poking at me and touching my arm. I make it a point to be as friendly with Aya as I can, hoping to get the point across without having to resort to sucking his face in public.  
  
The man with the microphone comes on again.  
  
"Hey, it's starting up again, you guys wanna go? It's square dancing this time around. Groups of four," Blaise pipes up, squeezing Youji's arm. Yeah, Youji's not sleeping alone tonight. He know it too because he smile indulgently and then stands up.  
  
"Why not? Omittchi, are you and Brandy up for it?"  
  
Omi and Brandy, who have been engrossed in deep conversation both look up, rather startled. "Sure… I guess," Omi says slowly.  
  
The four of them hurry off to do their thing. Now it's just me and Aya and the creepy girl who won't let go of my arm. She giggles and bumps against me. "You wanna go up and see if we can find partners?" she asks sweetly.  
  
"Uhhh… no… er… bathroom," I say hurriedly, scooting away from the table and making a b-line for the back of the establishment.  
  
I push through the swinging door and into the dimly lit interior of a predominately brown bathroom. Not appealing… and it has that 'hey, I'm a public bathroom' smell. To my utter relief Aya pushes into the room moments later. I gasp in relief and throw myself into his arms. "Koibito! Make her stop!"  
  
He pats my back and then dislodges me. "It's ok, Ken. She's just an annoying, clingy girl. We deal with them all the time at home."  
  
"Yeah, but this one's out for blood. I can tell!"  
  
"What do you want me to do?" he asks, going to wash his hands.  
  
"I don't know! Fix her with the glare of death, make it obvious that I'm your bitch! Something… anything!" I cry.  
  
"How much have you had to drink," he asks, completely changing the subject.  
  
"Oh… I'm a little tipsy," I answer. "But that's not the point!"  
  
"No more for you. Finish your drink and then drink water."  
  
"Why? I'm doing fine!" I argue, just to argue.  
  
"Look, Ken, the last thing I need is you getting into a bar fight in a foreign country," he growls.  
  
I think about this. "That's true. Fine, I won't drink anymore after this last one, but do something about that annoying baka!"  
  
He just rolls his eyes and leads me out of the bathroom. Back at the table he plops down into his chair and before I have a chance to sit down he grabs my wrist and pulls my down into his lap. This isn't quite what I meant….  
  
He puts one hand on my thigh and takes his drink in the other. "So, Charlotte, what is it that you and your friends do?" he asks, arching one thin eyebrow.  
  
She stares at us for a moment. We look back at her passively. "Well… we… we just kinda travel around from place to place, working here and there and then traveling some more. It's pretty great actually. We're all originally from Texas so we come back here more often than to other places."  
  
"That's interesting," Aya answers taking a sip of his drink. He makes a small coughing sound and clears his throat.  
  
Charlotte stares at us for a moment more. "You know I just think that is so great."  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"You know, American culture is so homophobic these days, but I just think it is great that in y'all's culture y'all feel completely comfortable being so close to each other physically as friends and still not feel that your manhood is threatened. You know probably 95% of the people in this place assume that y'all're gay. Isn't that just so sad?"  
  
Isn't it just. This girl is thicker than the basement walls of Fort Knox. She leans a little closer to us and hands me my drink. "Don't let it get warm."  
  
I smile at her blandly and take it between my fingers. I glance over at Aya and take a sip. Something tickles my throat and I clear it without thinking. Charlotte stares at us and we stare at her. There really isn't much to say so we just finish our drinks.  
  
After a while I start feeling kinda fun. The music sounds really good all of a sudden. Charlotte smiles at us wolfishly. "How do you boys feel? They're startin' another line… wanna dance?"  
  
"Yeah!" we both say simultaneously. Weird.  
  
We follow Charlotte out onto the wooden floor. I feel kinda fuzzy. I lurch a bit and look around to try and find Youji and Omi, but they aren't in the line. I shake my head. I don't think I've ever had that much fun dancing in my life. All the people around us seem to be swirling and twirling at a million miles a minute. I can't stop the floor from whipping around under my feet as the lights become brighter and brighter. Ugh… I don't feel so good. I look over at Aya and he seems to be suspended in time or something, but he looks about how I feel.  
  
"Are you boys feeling ok?" Charlotte asks innocently… a little too innocently. "Maybe we should go get some air…."  
  
Sounds like a good idea to me, but even if it didn't I don't think that I'd have much say in the matter at this point. My muscles are starting to ache and feel a bit like jelly.  
  
The fresh night air does a little something to revive me, but as I stumble towards what I think is Charlotte's truck my legs give just after Aya's do and we meet the gravel in quick succession. I look over at Aya who looks extremely pissed. My vision implodes inward on itself and the last thing I hear is.  
  
"Nighty night, boys."  
  
Next thing I know… I'm hogtied to Aya in the desert.  
  
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After thoughts: I wouldn't mind being hogtied to Aya in the desert. I hope Charlotte was sufficiently creepy. I tried but… she didn't live up to my own expectations. Hope you liked it. Still love to hear those thoughts from all y'all! 


	4. Change of Plans

Disclaimer: If I had a million dollars… it still wouldn't be enough to make them mine. So until I have enough, I've only borrowed. Don't sue me.  
  
Comments: Yay! It's Black Gold Chapter 4. And there is much rejoicing. At least… I hope that there is. I have a confession to make… this was mostly done like… almost four weeks ago *dodges rotten fruit and stuff*. But…!! But it wasn't quite right, so I had to fix it. It just took me a while to get there. Sorry. See I actually wrote this chapter before I wrote chapters 2 and 3, I don't know why… that's just how it happened. So yeah. Anway, again this isn't a very plotful chapter, just some stuff happening. Trudging out of the desert and all that. So, enjoy for what it's worth. Review, please!! *brandishes vile looking halibut harpoon* You don't want this lodged between your eyes….  
  
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Another car whizzes by. Aya drops his arm at his side and keeps on walking. I trudge after him, watching his backside in the nearly pitch black night. Good thing he's wearing white. Although with all we've been through in the past few hours he'd be hard pressed to prove it.  
  
"Ayan!?" I call despondently.  
  
"Don't call me that," he growls over his shoulder.  
  
I roll my eyes and curl my lip. "Fine, -Aya-kun- ?"  
  
"Hn?"  
  
"What do you think she slipped us?"  
  
He shrugs and rattles off some chemical compound sounding thing.  
  
"In a language I understand…?"  
  
"A drug, Ken. A knockout pill. Most likely in our drinks. Trust Youji to pick out the good ones," he hisses under his breath.  
  
I shuffle closer to him. "Aya wait a second," I call, reaching out and catching his shoulder. He halts, feet crunching on the roadside gravel as he pivots to look at me. His face is streaked with dust and dirt and I know mine looks much the same. Getting untied from on another took feats of assassin like agility I didn't even know I had. My wrists are raw from the effort and my ribs hurt. Aya-kun wasn't exactly mister encouraging either. 'Ken, would you stop squirming… try to use what little grace you possess here and help me get us out of this!' was the best he could manage.  
  
He looks down at me, narrow, indigo eyes glaring at me with hostile intent. "What?" he snaps.  
  
Trying not to balk at his sharp tone I reach out and take his wrist in my hands, gently working over the raw rope burns with my thumbs. I look up at him and then lower my eyes slightly. "Are you mad at me?"  
  
His posture changes, his shoulder angling forward, hips relaxing, muscles loosening. He sighs. "Why would I be mad at you?" he mumbles.  
  
"I don't know, but you seem angry…."  
  
"Of course I'm angry!" he cries, body tensing again. "I just woke up in the desert, tied to my boyfriend after being drugged by a psychopathic, Texan bitch, and then had to trudge through the desert in the freezing cold for two hours until we found this damn road… which we don't even know to be the one that leads back to Middle of Fuckin' Nowhere, Texas. I'm far from home, far from my country, in a place that doesn't speak my language, on a mission that has no merit whatsoever, and now you're all covered in dirt and bruises. So yeah, I'm a little pissed in general."  
  
I look up at him and raise an eyebrow. "So you aren't mad at me?"  
  
"No!"  
  
"You're sure?"  
  
"Yes, but I'm gonna be if you don't quit asking," he snaps jerking his hand away and turning back around, continuing his trek into the darkness.  
  
I don't move. "You can be such an ass. You don't care how I feel, do you? You don't care that we could have been fucked up, or fucked with, or just plain fucked, do you?!" I shout at his back as it fades into the blackness of the night. He stops and looks up at the stars. Then he looks over at me.  
  
"Of course I care, Kenken, but there isn't much we can do about it now except get our asses back to town, and hope to God that Youji and Omi haven't met the same fate in some desert elsewhere," he says throwing his hands up and sighing.  
  
"I'm not too worried about Youji, it's probably a wet dream as far as he's concerned," I grumble.  
  
Aya turns and keeps on walking. "Most likely."  
  
I hear a car coming. "Car coming," I call.  
  
Aya sticks his thumb out again.  
  
"This is so stupid!" I cry. I rub my wrists where they were bound earlier. I try to remember exactly how we got ourselves into this and how we ended up in the desert, but I don't really remember much after the line dancing. It's all just a bunch of blurred images, the lingering feel of truck bed, ropes…. That's probably a good thing. I'd hate to be scarred for life.  
  
"Yeah, well. Not much we can do about it. Stupid as it may be, that girl must have one fucked up psyche. She probably believes that by humiliating us she is somehow exercising her feminine libido and 'getting back' at all the men who have sexually oppressed her, where in actuality all she has accomplished is to further degrade herself. The best thing we can do is to act like it never happened. She wants us to be cowed," he says a length. "Too bad that we're gay."  
  
"Yeah, for sure. How do we know it was just the one? What if the other femme fatales were in on this too? Maybe they always hang around sleazy motels just looking to pick up guys, drug them, and dump them in the desert. Maybe they're lesbians… maybe they get off on it. If that's the case I guess Youji alone probably makes up for us and Omi too for that matter."  
  
Aya grins at me over his shoulder. He reaches out his hand and beckons me to catch up. I jog to his side, taking his hand in mine. There is something so indescribably wonderful about holding the hand of the person you love… his warm fingers close around mine, and he draws my hand up to his face, kissing it lightly. I smile at him in the darkness. It's not so bad. We've been in situations a million times worse than this. If we're lucky we'll get a ride sooner or later, if we're not we'll have to walk all night. No big deal. At least we're together. Yeah I know… no clichés, but sometimes I can't help myself.  
  
That car I heard passes us by. I sigh and grumble audibly. I hope Omi didn't get raped by those girls… that would be truly scaring for the poor kid.  
  
Time slips away. Aya and I take turns trying to flag down a ride. It's going on mind morning when a busted up pick-up truck comes roaring towards us. It screeches to a halt and Youji sticks his head out the diver side window. "There you guys are. I've been tearing down every highway out of this town looking for you since I woke up this morning! Quick get it!"  
  
Aya and I exchange glances, we know that pickup truck. I'm pretty sure I spent a small portion of the previous evening tied up in its truck bed.  
  
"Youji where did you get that truck? And where is our rental car?" Aya asks skeptically.  
  
"Huh? Blaise let me borrow it, the car is in the shop… I think that guy Ken punched in the face during the line dance slashed our tires," he answers motioning for us to hurry up.  
  
We exchange another glance. "Blaise?" I ask raising an eyebrow.  
  
"Yeah, we only spent the evening with her and her friends," Youji answers.  
  
"Oh, would those be the same friends that drugged us and dropped us in the desert?" I ask flatly.  
  
"Yeah… that would be them, well… one of them. Look just get in the car. Blaise is really sorry about the whole thing, so just get in the truck and I'll explain on the way back to the hotel. We've gotten a tape from Manx," Youji says in exasperation.  
  
Tape from Manx? Maybe we get to go home! We book it for the truck. We squeeze in besides Youji and he does a U-y, tearing down the flat, empty highway. That's gonna leave tire marks….  
  
"Ok, first explain about Blaise and then tell us about this tape," I say hurriedly.  
  
"Ok, fine. Well the way Blaise explained it this isn't the first time her friend… er… Charlotte has done this. Seems she's a bit unbalanced and watched 'Thelma and Louise' a few too many times when she was a little kid, just be glad she didn't dive you guys off a cliff or something. She didn't take her meds last night, of course they didn't know that till this morning, but yeah she drugged your drinks and then drove you into the desert and left you there. And if you were worried about it… she didn't rape you or anything. She just has this thing with abducting guys and… ditching them weird places, I guess. Blaise said she won't remember any of it, so… yeah. Sorry guys."  
  
I roll my eyes. "Just great. And I thought they were –all- unbalanced. What a relief it was just the one chick," I say sarcastically. "Where's Omi?"  
  
Youji looks over at us a bit sheepishly. "Uh… to tell you the truth I was a little surprised he wasn't trudging along with you two. I got a little…er… preoccupied with Blaise. In short… I haven't seen him since you two disappeared from the honky-tonk."  
  
"What?!" Aya shouts. "You lost track of Omi-kun? With the 'unbalanced' Charlotte still at large?"  
  
"She isn't at large any more. Blaise gave her her meds this morning. She's fine. He's probably with the other one… Brandy… or whatever," Youji says, covering his tracks.  
  
"This is just great," I mumble. "Well at least we weren't used for sex after all. I can stop feeling dirty now."  
  
There is an awkward silence that ensues until Youji flicks on the radio. Nothin' but country for miles around.  
  
"My woooman left meee! My dog done up and ran awaaaaay! I got the bluuuues, baby, come home to staaaay!"  
  
I lean forward and turn it back off with a savage twist of my wrist. "I can't take any more of that sappy, whiney crap."  
  
Youji raises his hands. "Excuuse me."  
  
"Tell us about this tape from Manx," Aya interjects.  
  
Youji takes a deep breath and rubs his nose. "Well I don't really know. It isn't postmarked; it was just kinda under the door when I stumbled back in early this morning. It just said, 'Kritiker Business: attn Wei(' I didn't think I should open it without everybody being there. Then Blaise and Charlotte came in with their little, 'your friends are probably wandering down the highway right now' confession. So I asked to borrow the truck and came to get you guys. If we're lucky Omi will be back when we get there."  
  
"Right."  
  
We're not lucky. Omi is nowhere in sight.  
  
We try to act normal. There is nothing left to do but sit awkwardly around the room. Looks like the mission plan is postponed….  
  
I'm seriously worried. Aya tries to comfort me, but that's my best friend out there in the clutches of some potential Texan madwoman, if the company she keeps is any indicator.  
  
Another morning waiting to see if Omi has been raped. I hate Texas.  
  
I stand by the window and press my brow to the cool glass. Aya stands beside me and pats my back before going to flop on the bed. Suffice to say we didn't get much sleep last night.  
  
Then there he is. Wandering up the road carrying something in his arms. It looks suspiciously like what he was carrying in them yesterday. "He's coming," I say flatly.  
  
Aya shifts on the bed and Youji only snorts, but the tension level has dropped dramatically. I sigh.  
  
I open the door and wait for Omi in the door frame. He smiles at me dreamily and walk past me. "Ohayou, Kenken," he chirps. "The donut place was on the way so I stopped to get breakfast again. Hope you guys don't mind."  
  
He walks into the room, a wistful smile plastered on his face, and sets the box of donuts and the coffee cups down on the table.  
  
"Mind? I'm starving," Youji pipes up.  
  
"Youji!" I snap and then turn to Omi. "Are you okay, Omittchi. After what happened to Aya and me we were worried that you'd been abducted and raped or something by one of those psycho chicks!"  
  
Omi looks over at me a bit dazedly and giggles behind his hand. "Oh, no it wasn't anything like that, Ken. After all rape is nonconsensual."  
  
Say what?! Exsqueeze me? Three pairs of eyes fix on him intently and there is much gaping. We wait for him to elaborate, to clear up exactly what he might be getting at, but he doesn't. He just flips open the donut box and grabs one. "Oh, crème filled."  
  
I shake my head and mutter, "I don't want to know. I just don't want to know."  
  
Youji starts to laugh out loud and Aya just grumbles and turns over on the bed, pulling a pillow up over his head. I grab a donut and then join him. Some serious naptime is in order. But it's so frickin' hot in here! How can people live like this? I want Kyoto… air-conditioning… bleh.  
  
Amazingly enough Youji and Omi let us sleep. I have a really weird dream about living on a ship. Ugh. I don't like boats. I don't like Texas even more.  
  
It's late afternoon when I finally wake up. I'm the last to do so. Aya is munching on a rather stale looking apple fritter in a chair by the table. Omi is simply lying on his back staring at the ceiling, smiling. I don't want to know.  
  
I stretch and rub at my eyes with the back of my hand. I get up off the bed and walk over to Aya, sitting down on his lap and wrapping my arms around his neck. "Ooh, you've showered," I say softly, smelling his hair.  
  
"You haven't."  
  
I take the hint and stand up, sniffing myself. "I don't smell that bad," I say defensively.  
  
"Oh, no not that bad. Certainly nothing like a guy who spent the night in a bar and then tied up in the back of a Ford and then wandering around sweating in the desert."  
  
"Shut up."  
  
He grins at me. "Make me."  
  
"Ooh, feisty…."  
  
"Ok, stop it, both of you. I'm trying to keep my donuts down," Youji drawls from his perch on the bed beside Omi. He's flipping through magazines. Ten bucks says they're dirty. "I don't want to have to think about what clean Aya and stinky Ken can do to each other in the sack, so Ken go take a shower so we can watch that goddamned tape."  
  
We glare at him for a moment and then I shrug my shoulders. "Fine, be that way."  
  
I trudge into the bathroom and close the door soundly behind me. I don't smell bad… do I? Oh well. No use fighting it. All in all the shower is a welcome thing. It takes away some of the tension lying in the back of a Ford and walking uncounted miles has caused. I must shower for longer than I realize because when I walk back into the motel room I get looks from everyone.  
  
"Jesus, Ken, we said that you stink, but you didn't have to disinfect yourself," Youji says sarcastically.  
  
"Oh shut it!" I snap, "At least it's not our water bill I'm running up."  
  
"Amen," Aya mutters as he gets up and begins to unwrap the tape shaped package. Out comes (big surprise) a tape and what appear to be four airline tickets.  
  
My eyes light up. "Ohh! Do we get to go home?!" I cry, pouncing on Aya.  
  
"I don't think so. Unless 'Alaska Airlines' is going to take us back to Japan," Aya growls holding up the tickets. I groan. "Let's just watch the tape."  
  
He pops it into the player and after some initial confusion over whether the TV had to be on channel 3 or channel 4 we get it and the familiar silhouette of the man himself comes onto the screen in a blur of static. "Good evening, gentlemen."  
  
Omi snickers, "It isn't even evening."  
  
We all glare at him. He shrugs and goes back to watching.  
  
"We've been monitoring your progress. Good job with the data collection on Global Oil. We have received a tip that all three of the targets, Shiro Ano, Abdul Al Sidiki, and Jerome Sanchez are gathering in their North Slope head quarters for a company review period. In light of this new information we've decided that it is imperative that Wei( follow this lead and destroy the targets immediately rather than stay in your current position and destroy facilities. A Kritiker demolition team will be sent in to finish the job you began in Texas. Included with this tape are four airline tickets to Fairbanks, Alaska. You will have a two day layover in Seattle, Washington. You will be contacted by another Kritiker agent there. He will give you the rest of your instructions and your remaining travel arrangements. Good luck. Hunters of the night…." *ZAP*  
  
Youji brandishes the remote control. "If I have to hear him say that one more time, there's going to be a murder suicide… mine and his," he says curling a lip. I think we all pretty much feel the same way.  
  
We stare at the now blank TV. Alaska?! The North Slope?!  
  
"So wait, let me get this straight…," I begin. "We came all the way to Texas and went through all this crap for… nothing?! We've been here for three days of pure hell and now Kritiker doesn't even want us to complete the mission here?! Argh!!"  
  
Omi looks over at me, "I wouldn't say it was for –nothing-. Good donuts anyway."  
  
I glare at him. "You didn't get dumped in the desert by a psycho chick," I grumble.  
  
He nods. "True."  
  
Again we wait for him to expound on this, but he doesn't so we all go back to pissing and moaning. Finally Aya gets up and pats me on the head. "Well. I suggest we pack up our stuff and get our mission report in order. Looks like our plane leaves tomorrow morning at seven AM. And we still have to get the car and drive back to Austin."  
  
Audible groans.  
  
If I thought Texas was bad. If Aya called this place hell… we could never have been prepared for what was to come.  
  
  
  
________________________________________________________________  
  
  
  
Afterthoughts: Yay! The boys are headed towards –my- part of the country! So all you nose out of joint Texans can relax, cause now I'm gonna make fun of my own state, Alaska! Whoo hoo. Nothin' but trees and bears and bush men! Hehehe… bush men…. Ok, later! 


	5. Airplanes and Expeditions

Disclaimer: Go read it in the last chapter. I don't want to write it again.  
  
Comments: Wow. It took me sooooo long to get around to writing more of this. I'm so sorry!! I just kinda. totally lost the thread. Then last night I sat down and was like, eh what the hell, and went to typing. This is what came out. There has been a POV change! Please not. It's changed to Youji's POV. Why?? Well, because I like writing Youji almost as much as I like writing Ken, and it keeps things fresh and amusing. Besides I love writing Yotan like he's deranged. Cause I think he really is.. Anyway if this fic on a whole proves to be long enough I'll cycle the other guys in as well. Four chapters apiece. But that would end up being 12 chapters total. And I just don't anticipate it being that long. hmm. someone better get some KY jelly cause they're about to get screwed. *grins* *snickers* *snarfs* I love that saying. Anyway I hope that somebody out there still wants to read this!! It was a nice light hearted break from writing my Vietnam War AU story. Man that shit gets heavy. Ok, enough of my babbling. Sleep calls. Ewww. I have to -work- tomorrow! *blergh* R&R!! Please?! Do it for me? To let me know if I should bother to finish this, please?! Ok. *nods off*  
  
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There is something so comforting about flying first class. The seats are, if not actually leather, then at least an acceptable imitation of leather. The drinks are free and you don't have to sit next to more than one person, which means that you always get at least one armrest. And since I'm sitting next to the bishounen, I get two. He's wiry, and puts up a good fight, but in the end, he's no match for my beautifully sculpted biceps. Thinking of Omi I glance over at him. He's pouting, trying to read one of the complimentary in-flight magazines. I think about flicking the pages just to annoy him, but then decide that that would be rather cruel and unusual, especially seeing as he most likely can't read the damn thing anyway.  
  
Instead I look over at Ken and Aya. It's a sight to see. Ken hates flying. He gets airsick and nervous. As a result he has tried to squeeze himself into the tiny space between the window and the window side seat. His feet are pulled up into Ran's lap, and since we're not supposed to take off our seat belts while seated, this seems to cause him no small amount of awkward discomfort. Every few seconds he shifts, trying to get just a tad bit more comfortable. Ran sits stoically with his reading glasses slid down his nose, a book propped up against Ken's feet. Every time Ken moves his feet spazz out and Ran's book goes flying towards his nose. But to his credit he doesn't complain. They're so cute. Really.  
  
I'm just about to turn and start molesting the bishounen when the steward passes us by. I've noticed that his name is 'Alex.' I raise an eyebrow and lean out of my seat as he passes by me into the deeper parts of the plane leaving a cologne trail behind him.  
  
"Check out the ass on, Alex," I murmur under my breath, biting my lip.  
  
I hear Omi snap his magazine shut and then he turns to me. "Youji! That's it, I've had it. I can't figure you out. For the love of God what are you? Are you straight, are you gay, what's the deal?!" he cries a bit frantically.  
  
By now Omi has the attention of most of the people seated in first class. Of course they have no idea exactly -what- Omi has just said, but his tone is rather universal. I look around and smile awkwardly, noting that Ran is glaring at us disapprovingly over his reading glasses. I turn to Omi and whack his forehead. "Jesus, Omittchi. What are you talking about?"  
  
He glares at me with those huge blue eyes of his, and then folds his arms across his chest. "I mean it. You're all the ladies' man, but then you go and comment on the male flight attendant's ass. So I'm asking you now, once and for all, are you straight or gay or bi or what?!"  
  
I look at him for a moment and then furrow my eyebrows, leaning back in my chair. I chew on the tip of my thumb, thinking. "You know, Omittchi," I say slowly. "I asked myself that once a long time ago. And for a while I really couldn't come up with an answer. But then it came to me. I'm just slutty. Where's my parade?!" I cry throwing up my hands. "Slut pride!"  
  
Omi grumbles and turns towards the window in disgust. Something blindsides me out of left field. Aya's book glances off my head and lands in my lap. I grab my head and twist around, glaring at him savagely.  
  
He glares right back, holding out his hand. "Shut-up, Youji," he snarls. "Now give me back my book."  
  
I pick it up and hold it above my head. "I don't think I want to give it back to you."  
  
Aya's eyes narrow dangerously. "That wasn't a request, Kudou," he hisses.  
  
I roll my eyes. "Oh, what are you going to do, gut me with your katana on a plane full of -witnesses-?!" I snap, and then glance up at the book. "Maybe I just want to keep it and read it for myself. Let's see. what kind of smut are you reading today.?" I lower the book and scan the pages. Dividends. interest rates. stocks and bonds. mutual fund. I look at the title. '101 Ways to Invest Money.' I feel queasy.  
  
I hold the book out to him in disgust. "Never mind."  
  
He chuckles indulgently and takes the book from me.  
  
All of a sudden Ken starts and sits bolt upright, almost whacking his head on the overhead panel. We all turn to stare at him. His eyes are wide and scared.  
  
"Aité, what's wrong?" Aya asks hurriedly.  
  
Ken's eye twitches once and then his face begins to turn a definitive shade of green. "I don't feel so good.."  
  
Aya's on his feet in a second flat, pulling Ken after him, pushing him down the aisle way. My fiery-haired leader kicks the tiny bathroom door open and begins to shove Ken inside and then starts to follow him. Out of nowhere a flight attendant pops up.  
  
"Sir, I'm sorry, two people aren't allowed to be in the lavatory at once!" she says in a fluttery voice.  
  
Aya wheels around fixing her with the patented Aya Fujimiya 'back-off-or-I- will-destroy-you' glare. "Back off, bitch. My boyfriend's gotta puke," he snaps and then slams the door in her face. The sign above the bathroom lights up to 'occupied'. I smile. Airplanes are great.  
  
The minutes tick by and Ken and Aya don't emerge from the lavatory. I pray to God that they are screwing like crazed weasels, because they both need it like nobody's business. Granted an airplane bathroom is not exactly the most convenient place to have sex, but it's one of those things everyone should try at least once. or five times if you happen to be me. But now I'm bored again without Aya to plague. I turn back to Omittchi.  
  
"Ok, Omittchi. You got to ask me a personal question, so now it's my turn," I drawl, grinning at him like cornered pray.  
  
His huge, luminous eyes slowly look up, peering apprehensively over the top of his magazine. "What do you mean?"  
  
"It's my turn to ask you a personal question."  
  
He rolls his eyes and sighs in exasperation. "Fine."  
  
I grin again. "What did you do the other night in Texas with that Brandy girl?"  
  
Omi's face turns six progressive shades of red. He splutters, mutters something about 'minding my own business', and then put the magazine up between us. I was hoping for that answer. In one quick movement I flip up the armrest between us and scoot over, flipping the magazine out of Omi's hand and pressing him against the bulkhead. I get right into his face and grin evilly.  
  
"That's not an answer, Omittchi," I singsong.  
  
"Ahhh! Yotan, get out of my space," he squeals.  
  
I smile slyly and put my hand on his knee, "Not till you tell me the truth."  
  
"Meep! Ok, ok, just don't molest me!" he cries, shoving me away.  
  
I chuckle and sit back, staring at him, waiting. "So, c'mon, what did you do?"  
  
He blushes again and plays with his hands. "Nothing. honest. We just left the bar and. er. sat and watched the stars, that's all! I swear!" he squeals as I move towards him again.  
  
"You're lying to me, bishounen. Now tell the whole truth."  
  
He eyes me warily and then squinches up his eyes. "And maybe. maybe I smoked pot for the first time and got tongue kissed!" he says in an almost inarticulate rush.  
  
"Maybe?"  
  
"Ok, actually. That stuff happened."  
  
"And is that aaaall?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"Yes, that's all! I'm so embarrassed, Yotan!" he squeals and hides his face behind the magazine again.  
  
A huge, unstoppable guffaw builds in the pit of my stomach and by the time I sit back I am laughing hysterically. "And here I thought your sweet innocence had been shattered!" I cry between my fits of laughter.  
  
He blushes and stares angrily at his feet. "It's not that funny, Yotan," he grumbles.  
  
I chuckle and pat him on the back. "Aww, poor kid. I suppose not. But the next time you get high and tongue kissed I'll make sure it's with me."  
  
He looks up at me with wide, unbelieving eyes, his mouth hanging open. "Youji-kun!!" he yells, and it looks like he's going to start crying.  
  
I sit back, unable to stop laughing, clutching my stomach, tears nearly rolling down my face. Oh God, his reaction was priceless. He fidgets and stews, grumbling and twisting his magazine. He knows I was making fun of him and that's got him madder than if I was serious.  
  
Just then Aya and Ken come out of the bathroom. I notice through my laughter that both look a little flushed and breathless. Aya's shirt is buttoned incorrectly. Omi catches sight of them and darts into the isle way, grabbing Aya's arm and pushing him by me. "You sit with him!" Omi cries and then drags Ken peevishly over to the row he had been sharing with Aya.  
  
Now I really can't stop laughing. Aya protests wordlessly, trying to reach out to stop Omi, but before he can he's strapping himself in. Ken looks over at Aya, shrugs, and then proceeds to fall asleep on Omi's shoulder.  
  
Aya grumbles and then sits next to me. "What did you do to him?" he growls.  
  
I eye him and then start to snicker again. "I could ask you the same thing."  
  
Glare of death ensues.  
  
"Bwahahahaha!" God I love airplanes.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
We stumble up the rampway. Ken is still groggy from his nap, and whatever else he did on the airplane. He leans against Aya as we make our way through the terminal and towards the baggage claim. God there are way too many fine people passing by. I can't keep track. This is one of the things I love about airports.  
  
I adjust the two bags that I've got over my shoulders. Somehow Omi and I ended up being the carryon baggage bitches. Omi struggles under the weight of his laptop and Ken's duffle bag.  
  
"Which way?" Ken calls as we come to a cross road. Omi glances up at the sign, thinks and then points.  
  
"That way, down the escalator. Baggage claim 14. We have to get all our crap." And on we go, down the escalator.  
  
At baggage claim 14 there is a man in an ugly suit holding up a sign that reads. "Wei?." Oh yeah, that's real subtle. We all seem to notice him at the same time and exchange glances. Aya shrugs and, leading the way, heads towards him.  
  
As we crowd around him he looks at us blandly. "Hey. Are you guys Wei??"  
  
His accent is really bad, but at least he tries.  
  
"Yes," Aya answers, not offering his hand. But that seems ok, cause it doesn't look like Mr. Suit would have taken it anyway.  
  
"Cool. My name's Greg. I'm your Seattle area contact. I had to park in the thingy cause you can't park on the drive."  
  
Uh. come again? Aya, Ken, Omi, and I just exchange glances again and nod slowly. Whatever.  
  
Omi turns around and squeals. "Our bags are coming!"  
  
Sure enough the conveyor belt has begun to rotate and bags are being spit at us down a long, black ramp. Goody, just how I want my leather Gucci luggage to be treated. I don't know why I bother. Omi springs towards the baggage carousel, squirming between the people who are waiting. Sometimes it pays to have the little guy with you.  
  
By the time we get our bags and are on our way toward the thingy in which the car is parked, Ken has rebounded and contents himself with pressing his face up against every other pane of glass in the sky bridge that connects the SeaTac International Airport with its parking garage.  
  
"Whoa! Look at that! And that! Hey, look at all the SUVs! Sugoi!" he cries rapid fire.  
  
Aya grabs the back of his shirt and drags him along. "Would you quit?"  
  
"But, koi, this is so much cooler than Texas! There's no sand," he says happily.  
  
"That's great, but you're acting like a tourist."  
  
"I am a tourist," Ken grumbles.  
  
I chuckle. I like Seattle. I've been here before.  
  
The car is a large, white, Ford Expedition. Our luggage fits easily into the hatch. Omi, Ken, and I fit easily into the back seat. Aya fits easily into the front seat and Greg fits easily into the driver's seat. This is great. Way better than driving around in Aya's goddamned Porsche. As we come up to the car Ken breaks away from Aya and begins to drool on the hood. "I love it.," he whispers.  
  
Greg drives us out of the airport and onto the infamous I-5. He heads north towards the city. Slowly the skyline comes into view. There is the Space Needle, Safeco Field, and the building that at one point was the tallest one west of the Mississippi. I don't know why I know this. Omi bounces and leans over my lap to look out the window. He points.  
  
"Whoa, look at that ugly dome thing. What the hell is that?"  
  
"Safeco Field. Hideous isn't it?"  
  
"Really."  
  
"No way," Ken breaks in. "Ichiro plays there!"  
  
Omi and I stare at him for a moment. He looks away in shame. "Well he does," he mumbles.  
  
Greg takes us down the dark, but pleasant streets of downtown Seattle, pointing out interesting things in a bored manner. He pulls up outside a building and dumps us onto the sidewalk, luggage and all. He hands Aya a packet.  
  
"There's everything you need in there. If you have any questions call me on my cell phone. The car is yours, have it valet parked, and don't forget to tip. This is your hotel. Enjoy your stay. I'll see you in two days," he says blandly, tossing the keys of the car to me.  
  
We all turn to look at the tall, Victorian-esque building. "But wait," I say realizing that we don't know Greg's cell phone number, turning back around. But Greg is gone. Creepy. A dry wind sweeps up the street and ruffles my hair dramatically. Cheesy.  
  
The others seem to have had the same realization about Greg and are glancing up and down the street awkwardly.  
  
"What a weird guy," Omi says lightly. "I wonder how exactly he's affiliated with Kritiker. He didn't even mention it once. What a weirdo."  
  
"Totally," Ken agrees.  
  
"Alright, enough chatter, lets get to our room and get our stuff put away. Then we should open this packet," Aya breaks in, pushing Ken and Omi towards the door of the hotel. "Youji. find a valet. Would ya?"  
  
"Sure, sure. Give me the crap job," I grumble. I get to be car bitch. Well, we'll just see if I let Aya drive anytime soon.  
  
By the time I find a valet and convince him that I'm actually staying at the hotel, I'm not in a very good mood. To make my mood even worse no one is waiting for me in the lobby so I have to have another argument with the desk manager about whether or not he can tell me where our room is. I win. And now in a rather bad mood I storm up the fire stairs, not wanting to waste time in the elevator, and go to pound on the door of room 376. No answer. I wait. I start pounding. and pounding. and pounding. Suddenly the door snaps open and Aya is standing there, eyes of death, shirt undone, breathing heavily. I open my mouth but never get to say anything.  
  
"God damn it, Kudou, you're next door!" he yells and then slams the door in my face. Wasn't the airplane bathroom enough for those two? Sheesh.  
  
I grumble and then walk next door to room 378. I knock once on the door. Omi calls out from inside, "Coming."  
  
He opens the door promptly and smiles at me. "We got two rooms, isn't that great?!"  
  
"Yeah, I grumble. Great."  
  
I push past him and go to sit down on the bed on which Omi has piled my shit. I have to admit, this place is high class.  
  
Omi sits on his bed, bouncing happily. "Aya-kun said we should unpack and then open the packet later."  
  
"Sure he did. And unpacking is exactly what he's doing. Really getting all of his packages undone," I grumble.  
  
Omi eyes me for a moment and then giggles. "You're so weird, Youji."  
  
I roll my eyes. "Yeah I know."  
  
After we're done unpacking I stand at the window, wishing I could smoke, and look out over the city street below. Seattle really is a nice city. as far as American cities go that is. Not too big, not too small. Lots of rain, but just enough sunshine to make people stay. Not like Texas. Thank God, not like Texas. I glance over my shoulder. Omi has fallen asleep on his bed. A drool pattern is forming on his pillow. I glance at the phone and decide to push my luck.  
  
I pick up the receiver and punch in Aya and Ken's room number. It rings twice and then Ken picks up. "Hello?"  
  
"Are you two done yet?" I snap.  
  
Ken chuckles. "Yeah, we're done, Yotan. Man was Aya ever pissed when you wouldn't stop banging on the door."  
  
"Yeah, well how do you think I felt? Hadn't you already had enough?"  
  
He laughs out loud. "Hey, look who's talking. Coming from you that sounds a little ludicrous. Besides this is the first time we've been alone for over a week!"  
  
"Now and the airplane bathroom," I grumble.  
  
"Hey! Nothing happened in the bathroom! I really was sick to my stomach."  
  
"Uh huh."  
  
"I was!"  
  
"Whatever. Just tell Aya that I'm hungry and Omi's asleep. So if he wants to look at that packet he better make it fast and then we'd better get some food," I say, putting my hand on my hip.  
  
Ken chuckles. "Will do. See you soon."  
  
"Bye." I hang up the receiver and then lie back on my bed. I glance over at Omi. Hmm. come to think of it a nap doesn't sound all that bad..  
  
I am woken up by the sound of insistent knocking. I don't open my eyes, only roll over and sigh. I hear Omi wake, mumble, and make his way to the door. It opens.  
  
"Nani? Oh hi, Ken, Aya. What time is it?"  
  
"Almost nine o'clock."  
  
"Really?! Ohmygosh! I'm hungry. oooh. Come on in. I think Yotan is still asleep. We kinda crashed after we got here," the kid says sleepily. I hear his voice get louder and Ken and Aya's feet on the carpet.  
  
"Yeah, so did we. Well. we kinda tired ourselves out anyway," Ken replies. I can hear the smile in his voice.  
  
Omi pauses. "Gee. thanks for sharing, Ken. 'Cause I really needed -that- mental picture."  
  
I grumble softly and the next thing I know Omi flops down next to me and starts to jostle the bed. "Wake-up, Casa Nova!!"  
  
My eyes snap open and I lash out, grabbing the kid and pulling him on top of me, squeezing him tightly. "Oh, bishounen, I didn't know you felt this way!" I coo.  
  
"Ahhh!! Youji-kun let me go!" he squeals.  
  
I chuckle and moosh him more. He squelches and then gives up, grumbling peevishly. "Aww, you're no fun, Omittchi."  
  
"Let me go!" he growls.  
  
I comply, releasing him. He's off my bed like a bat out of hell and goes to hide his extremely red face behind Ken. Ken is trying stoically not to laugh. Aya looks bored, but I notice that his mouth twitches at the corners. I am so funny sometimes. I kill me.  
  
"So what's the plan, compadres?" I ask, stretching and propping myself up on my elbows. Aya flips the packet to me. It lands on my stomach and I make a small 'oofing' sound as he goes to sit on the end of my bed . Ken and Omi plop down on the other bed and stare at us intently.  
  
"Well?" Ken finally says.  
  
"Well what?" I ask, blinking slowly.  
  
"Open it!" he yells back, raising his fist.  
  
"Oh, that. Fine fine, hawduyuhawses," I say flatly. Omi giggles at my use of his word. I smile at him and he goes back to scowling.  
  
I pick up the packet and run my finger under the seal, ripping it open. Tipping it upside down I shake it gently. Nothing falls out, but a stack of blank paper. I hold it up, riffling the pages to that everyone else can see that there is nothing written on them. Great. Now what?  
  
Aya peers at me. "Is that it?"  
  
I shake the packet again and then toss it to Aya. "You look."  
  
He blows into the envelope and then tips it upside down again. A thin, white piece of paper falls out. He picks it up and scans it with those flat, uninterested eyes of his. His eyebrows furrow and it looks like he reads it again.  
  
"What's it say, koi?" Ken asks impatiently.  
  
Aya-kun looks up and takes a deep breath. "'Further instruction upon your arrival in Alaska. In the mean time, have fun.'"  
  
I jump to my feet. "Now that I can live with! Fun it is, let's blow this pop stand!"  
  
Ken and Omi glare at me form the bed. "Youji, we can't just goof off, we have to prepare for the mission!" Omi snaps.  
  
I put my hands on my hips. "Look, the current mission is for us to have a good time before we go and freeze to death in the arctic and get eaten by rabid seals and polar bears. And that is one mission I am going to accept!" I cry, grabbing Aya's arm and hauling him to his feet. "Are you with me?!"  
  
Aya pulls away and charlie horses my arm. Omi flops back onto the bed and sighs. Ken mumbles something about 'the last time we tried to live it up.' I look around huff in disgust. "I can't believe you guys! Well, I don't care what you all say, come tomorrow I am dragging all your asses around this town and you are going to like it!"  
  
Yeah. at least that's what I thought. 


End file.
